Writing on the Wall (Survival Series)

by Ward, Tracey

  “Already locking us in?” I ask her.

  “No, I’m locking the men out. Prying eyes are not welcome here. We want you to feel safe. Comfortable.” She smiles broadly, catching eyes with Breanne. “Pampered even.”

  Breanne smiles and begins to pull her clothes off. They look clean but worn out, something unavoidable on the outside, even in the stables of the biggest gang in Seattle. Nats follows suite though she does it with much less zeal. The shiny trio smiles approvingly at them then casts their eyes on me. I can’t exactly escape right now, with or without Vin and the girls, and I’ll be honest, a hot shower with real soap sounds amazing. But I’m worried about my shiv. I’m going to lose it, there’s no two ways about that. I can’t hide it from them here and I know they’ll burn my clothes once I give them up.

  Not wanting to be caught with it as that will put me under heavier watch than I’m already to be under, I walk to a bin in the corner. It’s full of towels of all different colors all folded neatly in stacks. I give the pretense of leaning against it to untie my shoe and deftly slip the shiv out of my sleeve. I let it fall inside the bin where it disappears in between the stacks of colorful cotton. I can’t help but frown as I watch it go. That’s three weapons I’ve lost today.

  These women are thorough. Disturbingly, latex glove type of thorough and I feel a little violated after my shower. But I am clean. Really and truly clean for the first time in years and putting on clean clothes (clean underwear!) feels amazing. When I run my fingers through my long, newly conditioned hair it feels like cold satin against my skin.

  They take us out of the washroom into another long hallway. It’s cold in here and my wet hair chills me to the bone. It’s then that I realize they’ve given us nothing substantial to wear. Nothing to keep warm in the outside for too long. Long enough to, oh I don’t know, jump in the water and swim away? Once I hit that icy water, even if I made it to another shore without them catching me, I’d be frozen before I’d make it anywhere safe. That’s not an accident on their part.

  We enter into a large room with glittering silver floors, wire mesh hanging from the ceiling and stark white plastic tables with matching chairs. There’s a counter to the side made of worn old wood topped jarringly with sleek metal. The sterile beauty of it gives me whiplash and I take a step back, unable and unwilling to enter. I’m amazed at how well preserved this all is. When I catch a whiff of fresh baked bread, I regain the step I lost and then some. It calls to me, pulling me forward like a siren ready to dash me upon the rocks.

  What reins me in is the fact that this room is bustling with people, all of them shiny and happy. All different ages, races, all clean, well fed, well maintained. And there are just so, so many of them.

  “Vin!” Breanne shouts as she takes off running.

  I spot him when she jumps into his arms like a girl in love. He hugs her loosely, nods at Nats and grins at me.

  “You girls clean up well.” he says, still looking at me.

  “So do you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair that short.” Nats tells him.

  They’ve buzzed his hair until it’s nearly gone. It’s just a hint of darkness on his head, making his eyes seem brighter and his face look younger. He runs his hand over it, testing it out as he smiles ruefully at Nats.

  “They have barber’s sheers and I haven’t had a real haircut in years. Figured why not.” He glances at me. “What do you think, Kitten? Does it suit me?”

  “I lost my shiv.” I say, ignoring his question.

  “Yeah, me too.” he mutters, glancing at our escorts as they approach slowly.

  Caroline smiles at him happily, taking all of him in. “I’m glad you found each other again. Excellent. Why don’t you all get in line, eat some lunch and then we’ll give you the tour.”

  “Sounds great, thank you.” Vin replies, smiling back at her.

  She casts us each another glance then she and her minions shove off. When I look back at Vin his smile is gone.

  “I don’t like her either.” I tell him.

  He nods. “She’s trouble. Watch out for her.”

  “Can we eat now?” Breanne asks eagerly.

  “Yeah, Bree. Go ahead. I’m right behind ya.” Vin tells her, still watching Blondie as she walks away.

  Getting food should be easy and fun. Walking up to a counter to pick what I want from where it sits warm and waiting for me sounds like paradise. But I’m in Hell. There are so many people here, easily 20 just in this room, and my skin is crawling. It’s loud, it’s hot, it’s too full. My breath starts coming in short, strained gasps. I worry I’ll hyperventilate. I hang back as Nats and Vin follow Breanne to the buffet line. I’m hovering in the doorway, both loving and hating the open space at my back, when Vin notices I’m missing.

  “You okay?” he calls, his brow pinched in concern.

  “I’m fine.” I say breathlessly, shaking my head.

  He whispers something to Nats before leaving the line to approach me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s…” I try to even my breathing but I can’t make it happen. “There are too— too many people. It’s overwh—whelming. They’re so loud and what if… what if one gets bitten? We’ll all die. There are just too many!”

  “Whoa, slow down.” he says calmly, stepping into my space and making me look at him. His face blocks out most of the room as he backs me against the wall. It’s still loud and he’s crowding me but it’s only one person. After Ryan I can handle it. This I’m better with. “Breathe slowly and deeply. Don’t worry. Risen aren’t getting in here. That’s not what you need to worry about.”

  “They’re always what I need to worry about.” I mumble, feeling faint. “Them and you.”

  “Me as in gangs?”

  “You as in ev—everyone else on the planet. Gangs, Colonists, d—dead, undead.”

  He pauses, chewing on that for a minute. When he speaks his voice is hard. “How big of a problem is this going to be?”

  I lift my head, blinking up at him. “What?”

  “Can I count on your or is this fear going to make you useless?”

  I shove him away from me. It’s a weak effort but he lets me do it. “It’s not a fear, it’s—screw you.”

  “No, you get it together. You’re tougher than this, you have to be. No way you made it as long as you did alone if you can’t adapt.” He steps close again, his words rapid and low. “Those two girls I’m with, I can’t count on them. Nats is solid but she’s no fighter and Breanne is nothing but a pretty face. These people have taken a lot of guys from The Hive and I’m hoping to find some in here and get their help getting out, but who knows? Maybe they’ve gone native. Maybe they tried to escape and their dead.”

  “Maybe they were in the colony that fell.”

  He nods grimly. “Maybe. Right now you’re my only sure thing. I watched you fight when they tried to take you. Even when they had you and you knew it, you didn’t hesitate to put your knife in someone. So, please, tell me that girl is gonna be able to man up and handle this.”

  I glare at him, surprised to find myself breathing deeply. Evenly. Angrily.

  “Can you handle it?” he presses.

  “I can handle it.” I growl.

  He grins at my annoyance. “There it is, Kitten.”

  I make it through lunch because I have to. Vin doesn’t say anything to Breanne or Nats about my problem but he sits us at a table on the outskirts of the room nearest the door. We eat in silence and though it’s just bread, fruit and vegetables it’s delicious.

  After lunch we get “The Grand Tour” as Caroline laughingly calls it because she is just hilarious and I find that the Colony is everything I dreamed it would be.

  Absolute. Pure. Torture.

  This building is huge and we don’t even see all of it. Apparently a lot of it is used for “storage”, though storage of what we aren’t told. We also aren’t invited to ever find out. Most of the interior is broken up into work r
ooms though quite a bit of it is sectioned off as living space. There are bathrooms, though not all of them work so you have to be careful, the showers, a common area that looks like it used to be an exhibit with a large TV and some seating, the kitchens beside the cafeteria and a large open area that was probably once the main exhibit but is now filled with beds. An old green airplane hangs high above in the ceiling, something I imagine could easily snap and crash down on unsuspecting sleepers, but what do I know? There’s also a pink truck shaped like a foot. I don’t ask. In fact, I don’t ask anything. I don’t say anything at all because with each step I take through this building I panic a little more. People are everywhere, talking so loudly, constantly walking by, brushing past me, touching me to say hello as Caroline introduces us. I’m sweating rivers under the thin material of my prison clothes.

  She shows us a large maintenance room where the electrical side of things is run and I finally get a reprieve from the crush of people. The generators are here, the solar batteries being charged by the panels on the roof and another set of batteries being charged by a small wind turbine set up outside in the yards. It all looks intricate and confusing to me but this is how they live. This is how they have hot running water, lights moderate heat and a functioning kitchen.

  Outside is the small agricultural area we saw before. I also notice that they’ve taken the time to bring in high fences that run the three water sides of the property. No waiting for summer and swimming for freedom. How did they know? It’s almost like they’re as accustomed to keeping people in as they are to keeping zombies out. There are gardens and a greenhouse out here to be tended with small fruits and a lot of vegetables. There are also sections designated for various crops and they have livestock to be looked after; cows to be milked, eggs to be gathered.

  Inside there are meals to be prepped, fruits and veggies to be canned and preserved, breads to be baked. The maintenance room needs bodies, the guards need people on rotation, there’s sewing to be done. And that’s all great. I’m actually in love with and on board for all of that. But what makes me want to scream in this woman’s fake Barbie face is that I don’t want to live here. I’m a butcher, not a baker or a candlestick maker, which, by the way, was on the tour as well. This entire community thing is not for me. I get it now, what Vin said about me earlier; I’m a wild thing. I belong in the wild, in the woods, in the streets. In danger.

  When they showed me the giant room full of beds, I almost vomited. I can’t take this. It’s too crowded, too closed in. It’s too clean. Don’t get me wrong, I like being clean. I loved that hot shower and I will happily drink their milk until I get sick and die, but my problem with a lot of this is that it’s like they’re playing at normal. They’re trying to pretend that they can hide behind these concrete walls and the world outside isn’t dead and rotting at their doorstep. Their backyard is flooded with sewage and their solution is to draw the blinds.

  People like me and Vin and Ryan, we live out there in the ugly and we look it in the eye every single day. We’re out there trying to reclaim what was lost while these people are hiding away, pulling us in and trying to make us part of the fantasy that all can be bright and beautiful again if we just close our eyes to everything that’s real.

  I can see it on Vin’s face too. As we walk through the tour Breanne gets happier by the second. I watch as he distances himself from her. She’s lost to this place and he knows it. And who knows? If I was doing what she was on the outside then I might be quick to sign up too. I’m not judging her for wanting this. I’m not judging anyone who would. What I am judging is the way they go about it.

  “I want to watch this place burn.” I say to myself.

  Vin chuckles softly beside me. “You and me both, sister.”

  “Is this like what you guys have at The Hive? Is everyone sitting pretty these days but me?”

  “No, not even close.” He glances around the common room we’re standing in, his eyes landing on the 50in TV and brightly colored bean bag chairs. “This is almost grotesque.”

  “It’s messed up, right?” I ask, glad he sees it the way I do. “It feels obscene somehow.”

  “Kinda disrespectful.”

  “Exactly. They’re delusional.”

  “This one especially.” he mutters, gesturing to Caroline.

  As though feeling his eyes on her, she turns to face us.

  “Everything all right?” she asks sweetly, the hard set of her mouth not matching her tone.

  Vin grins at her. It’s the same one he gave me in the van; all sex and charm. “It’s amazing.”

  “We were just talking about how nice it is to be warm and dry.” I agree, smiling at her.

  “Wonderful.” She doesn’t believe a word of it. “Well, that’s the end of the tour. Let’s move on to dinner, shall we? It’ll be a great chance for you to meet new people.”

  We start to file out of the room, Breanne following the three pretties like a happy puppy, Nats following warily and Vin and I bringing up the rear.

  “’New people’?” I whisper to him. “They’re going to separate us again.”

  “You cold and wet a lot, Kitten?”

  I frown at him, startled by the question. “What are you talking about?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I don’t know. Yeah. Everyone is.”

  “No,” he replies, his tone low. “Not everyone is. Nats isn’t. Breanne isn’t. I’m not.”

  “You’re in The Hive, that’s completely different. That’s practically a Colony.”

  He glares at me. “We’re not the Colonies.”

  “You know what I mean. The size of your gang compared to the others is huge. You don’t have to hide like a lot of us do. In fact, you pretty much advertise your location. We all know where you are but none of us are dumb enough to come at you. I can’t light fires half the time because someone is bound to see the smoke and in case you haven’t noticed, this is the Pacific Northwest. It tends to rain a bit. So yeah, I’m cold and wet a lot.”

  He shakes his head, looking annoyed. “You should join The Hive. You’re a beautiful girl. You’re high currency.” He looks me up and down, taking in every curve of my body. “You’re a hundred dollar bill, Kitten. An item would have to be pretty rare for The Hive to be willing to burn a Benjamin like you.”

  I scowl at him. “Is that supposed to be flattering?”

  “It’s supposed to be honest. And it is. I’m not stroking your ego, I’m being real. You’d hardly have to work. You’d be a trophy piece more than anything else. You’d be warm and dry, better fed.”

  “Why is everyone trying to save me lately? Ryan, the Colonists, you. I can take care of myself just fine.”

  “Who’s Ryan?”

  “No one.” I grumble.

  Vin grins wickedly. He nudges my shoulder as we walk. “You got yourself a guy, Kitten?”

  “No.”

  He watches me and waits.

  “Maybe.” I admit grudgingly. “I don’t know. Kind of.”

  He shakes his head sadly. “Giving it away for free.”

  “You’re warped.”

  “Is he an independent too?”

  “No, he’s got a crew.”

  “And they don’t know about you, do they?”

  I shake my head fiercely.

  “What crew does he run with?”

  “I don’t actually know their name. I just know where they are.”

  “Really? Where are they?”

  I give him a long, blank stare. What am I? New? Ryan didn’t sell me out, I won’t sell him out. I owe him that much.

  Vin chuckles. I nearly stumble forward when he suddenly slings his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close beside him.

  “Good girl.” he murmurs, giving me a squeeze.

  Chapter Twelve

  They keep us fat and happy for another two weeks. Every meal is delicious, hot and filling, every night is spent in a soft bed with a warm blanket, and we’re allowed a hot s
hower once per week. It is Heaven and it is Hell.

  I’m not doing well with all these people. I’m barely sleeping and Vin is sometimes all the company I can handle at meals. They tried to make it easier for me initially by putting me in outdoor jobs. First it was the greenhouse and the gardens where I learned to pull weeds and water plants. Not much is growing right now but they say we have to make sure we have seeds to plant for next year and prep the soil for the spring. There is still broccoli, kale and even a few hearty pumpkins that have outlasted the drop in temperature that are growing and need tending. Other than that, though, gardening is as boring as I’ve always imagined it. I “accidentally” break two clay pots in the greenhouse and I’m promptly kicked out.

  Now I’m on guard duty which is a good change but a total joke. I’m tied to a guy named Phil up here on top of the wall of shipping containers with no weapon and no real purpose. We start walking back and forth, he and I starting at one end, another guy at another end. I can see three more people walking the chain link fences surrounding the rest of the property, dutifully keeping the Kraken out. I asked why we needed fences against the water. Phil’s response was priceless.

  “For safety.”

  They never acknowledge that we’re captives here. It’s always ‘Thank goodness we found you!’ and ‘You’ll get used to it. You’ve been away too long.” Away where? Out living my life on my own terms? They act like they’re CPS and we’re runaways or victims of Stockholm’s Syndrome. They will heal us! It’s unreal.

  “Joss, you’re looking the wrong way.” Phil barks.

  I look at him, confused. “How? I’m looking out there. I’m watching for… stuff.”

  “What stuff? What are you talking about?”

  “Well, I assume I’m not watching for Risen because,” I throw my arms wide across the city. This area is absolutely swarming with Risen. It’s far worse out here than it is in my part of town. Their moaning is a constant hum in my ears up here. “There they are, pretty much everywhere. And we’re not killing them, which is weird, but ok. So I’m watching for whatever else. Gangs, I guess?”